Future Imperfect
by justaminuet
Summary: No matter how much you wish it, the future is never how you'd like it. Corruption taints all.


_Disclaimer:_ Oh, the pain of not being part of Capcom. Ah, well. I'm making no money off this sucker, because I own just about nothing. A few things, but not much. Dangit all. 

_Author's Notes:_ AU past _Rockman X6,_ and spoilers mostly for just _X4, X5_ and _X6._ If you have any questions, feel free to e-mail me. I'll do my best to answer (as long as it doesn't give away too much of this crazy plot). And one more thing. Zero angst, ahoy! Because, well, if I'm going to write a story focused on him, I met as well torture the poor boy. Ah, the results of listening to Chad Kroeger and Josey Scott singing, _"Hero"_ one too many times on the radio. 

**Future Imperfect**

**Chapter One: Waking Up**

_"So, when will I wake up?"_

_"If there is no problem... It will be around August 15th, 102 years from now."_

_"...Right. Here's to a successful sleep."_

Not surprisingly, it was his last memories that were the first to kick in. Sleep... How long had he been doing that, anyway? When he had first gotten into the pod, right before it closed on him, he had thought that maybe he'd be in there forever. That the doctor wouldn't be able to do anything for him. It would be just his luck, after all. 

"So, how long before he wakes?" 

That was a new voice. His memory, still rebooting, didn't have this voice on record. Or maybe he just couldn't remember it yet. He knew he was still coming back online. Give a few more minutes, maybe it would be recognizable. 

"Can't say. Couple minutes, couple hours. Couple _days._ Depends on him." 

Another new voice. Masculine, like the first one, but older, and oddly toned, like a squeaky wheel. He was pretty sure he'd remember that sort of voice, regardless of how long his sleep was. 

"You think it's okay to get pretty boy up? Looks pretty useless to me." 

There was that first voice again. If he had been completely functioning already, he would've scowled. Both at the 'pretty boy,' comment, and the 'useless,' jab. He didn't take kindly to that sort of thing. However, he let his system continue to warm up, feeling more alive with each moment. 

"He can't be useless. He's famous, you know? We don't know much about the old Hunters, but this guy is still talked about." 

"History, Doc." 

"You were history, too." 

"Humph." 

His memory was finally complete, old thoughts filling his head, all of them flying through in a jumbled mass of chaos. They burned like knives being jabbed into his skull, and he jerked at the pain. 

"Oh, we've gotta live one!" 

"Looks like it, doesn't it? Be a dear, and check on the restraints. We don't want any unnecessary accidents in case our new friend here isn't quite... friendly." 

"...Okay." 

New voice... Or was it an old voice? This one was familiar. Damn familiar, and he got quickly frustrated that he couldn't put a name to it. Light, soft, female, accent... It was somewhere in his memories, but he couldn't pinpoint it. Damn, he hated this. He tried to open his eyes. They almost complied, but then mutinied on him, his body still not ready. 

"His stats say he should be running soon. And the restraints are secure." 

"Good girl. Hopefully, they won't be needed." 

"I really wish we didn't need to do that. We didn't need it for Brother." 

He knew that voice. Light, soft, female, accent... 

"Your brother wasn't a threat, considering what an old model he was." 

"Hey! I'm as threatening as they come, Doc." 

A chuckle. "Of course. My mistake. Still, the restraints for this Reploid seemed the best option. If it'll make you feel better, dear, you can always use them on me later. Heh, heh." 

There was a loud _crack_ that resounded in the room, like someone rapping someone's skull. "Doc, stop hitting on her! You old perv." 

"Brother, please don't hit the doctor." 

Light, soft, female, accent... Who was this person? What was this memory he couldn't quite grasp? 

"Listen to the girl, you vicious little toaster." 

"I'll toast you, you sicko... " 

"Oh, Brother, please... " 

He didn't care if his system was ready for it or not, he wanted to open his eyes. He needed to put a name to that voice. Light, soft, female, accent... That voice. He knew it, and he wanted the name. With a groan, he slowly forced his eyelids to raise. 

"Hey, pretty boy's moving again." 

"Oh, my." 

There was that voice again. The light in the room blinded him a moment, and he tried to raise his hand to shield his eyes. Something was clamped tightly onto his arm, and he, still too disoriented to concentrate, couldn't even move it slightly. Restraints. Right, he'd forgotten about that. His vision wound up clearing slowly, and more painfully than he would've liked. Even clear, all he could see was light. It took him a few seconds to gain his barring, so he could realized that he was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling lights. He almost laughed. This wasn't how he expected his awakening to be. Oh, well. He supposed it was better than never waking up at all. 

"Are you okay? Can you hear me?" 

That damn voice. Yes, he could hear her. That was part of the problem. A little visual aiding would've been nice. 

As if answering to his sharp mental remarks, someone moved into his line of sight, mercifully blocking some of the glaring light. "Are you feeling well?" 

And there she was. The person to whom the vexing voice belonged to. His eyes widened. Reploid, without a doubt, the outfit alone was proof of that. It was different. Purple, white, and blue. Not the colors he'd seen her in last. An update? An impossible update. His mind told him that. But there she was. She may have had a new outfit, but there was that long, brown hair of hers, those damn aqua eyes blinking curiously. 

"Can you hear me?" she repeated. 

And that voice. Light, soft, female, accent... The voice matched up with the features, and suddenly something snapped together into his memory, and dear God, this one had a name, and he knew it, and she shouldn't be here, because he watched her... No, he did more than watch, he... Dear God... 

Bright white sparks flew, the sound of resisting metal filled the air, as the restraints on his arms were wrenched apart like they had been made of aluminum foil. His upper body freed, he sat up with lightening speed, reaching out, and grabbing onto the girl's arms almost desperately. An old memory surfaced for barely a moment. 

_"Zero! Stop a minute and think about this!"_

"Iris!" He shook her, unable to do anything but stare and sputter, trying to figure how... How? 

Iris, for her part, looked justifiably scared, eyes wide and dilated. "Please, let go!" she begged, afraid this strange Reploid was going to crush her arms. 

"Watch it, pretty boy!" Iris was suddenly pulled out of his death grip, and a very irritated looking Reploid took her place. Except he shoved the half restrained Reploid back onto the table, instead of quivering in fear. Zero glared up at the new problem. He didn't recognize this guy at all. Gray, red, white... Stupid yellow scarf.   
Behind the shades attached to his helmet, the scarfed Reploid narrowed his dark eyes. "Don't you go getting all touchy-feely with my sister." 

Zero snarled. "You're not the Colonel." 

The aggressor sneered. "The who?" 

"Don't aggravate him anymore, Blues," the old voice ordered. Zero turned to it. A man with a long, graying brown stood a ways off. His shoulders were hunched, his eyes were hidden behind small, circular sunglasses, and on his bald head rested a black beanie. The scarfed Reploid, Blues, backed off, but reluctantly. The old man grinned toothily at him.   
"You would be Zero, yes?" the man asked. "An Irregular Hunter." 

Zero sat up, eyes staring, cynically. "Yeah." 

"Good!" the old man crowed, adjusting his dark glasses. "_I_ am Doctor Bacchus," he pointed to himself, melodramatically. "Good afternoon to you. I'll take a wild guess, and say you have questions. Correct?" 

Zero gave the odd doctor a long look, before his eyes scanned over the room. Sterile, bright, and metallic, for the most part. Just one section was a mess, littered with spare parts and broken pieces. His gaze landed on Iris, who was hiding herself behind Blues, while the taller Reploid scowled at the new guest. Iris noticed his staring, and backed herself even more behind her 'brother,' actually grabbing onto the end of his scarf. Blues, in response, deepened his scowl, while reaching back to pat the girl on the side, reassuringly. 

Zero frowned, turning his eyes back to the old man. "You bet your ass I do, Doc." 

**Next Chapter: Unforeseen Events**

So, have I completely messed with your mind yet? I swear, this _will_ make sense! I mean it! No, really, I'm serious. 


End file.
